` star-filled corpse

[cherubim]

you weak, frail little thing you,
pitiful heart thump-thump-thumping
as you draw your last tiny breaths.
hands shake around your body,
frigid skin indented with cresents
from claws that once tore at you.

[cherubim]

my rage is that of the gods
you, my creation
will suffer under my fire

[cherubim]

you tempt me, foul beast;
fetid breath ghosting over me.

offer up your body, 
but keep your soul.

my secret is safe with you -
i accept the repulsive request.

[cherubim]

there is a precariously thin line that lies betwixt that of life and death. with that, a balancing act comes - one you seem to have mastered in your comatose state. no voice will reach you, no action elicits a response. but a gentle touch - an angel's touch - has you moving. flickering of the eyes, maybe a twitch of the fingers. will today be the day your act finally ends? will you finally fall upon the side you wish to stay?

[cherubim]

oh, 
wretched 
skin of mine
conforming to 
a shape beneath
the status quo.
skin the outer,
let bleached
bones lay
on
show.

[cherubim]

dewy morning breath kisses your leaves
one by one, they start to revive - green.
a child takes it's first tiny breath;
you shed your remnants of death.

[cherubim]

she spins,
such a gentle intensity
and it dizzies you.
such an extravagant dance,
saved only for you.
in return?
a kiss, or maybe,
hopefully,
you'll whisk her away
from the iron grip
that her head
has her trapped in

[cherubim]

insaitable hunger has struck once more;
it crawls up from the depths, feasting.
or, so it tries to - there is little left within;
the heart has burrowed itself,
shuddering, trembling, palpitating.
there is nowhere left to hunt, dear hunger;
escape the throat and set forth
find another to infect with your heinous desires

[cherubim]

oh
how the ire
of being tired
keeps me up at night
(soothe me, my dear --
i love you)

[cherubim]

i threw up feathers in the shape of your name
my oh my, what a mess i have made